Unresolved Matters
by Elza
Summary: After the war Harry wants to thank Snape for keeping him alive for all those years, and chooses a rather unusual way to do it.
1. Snape and Potter

A/N: I've had this story in my head ever since reading Book 7, but it has only ripened after my seeing the film. Hope you like it! Needless to say, all reviews will be greatly appreciated and responded to!

Voldemort was dead. Now that the war was over, everybody was suddenly a hero, using his name with faked ease and pretending not to remember ever doing otherwise. Those who had been brave (or foolish) enough to have called him Voldemort even before his fall now looked at such people with a mixture of pity and amusement, or, in some extreme cases, scorn.

Harry Potter belonged to neither category. After all, what did a name matter? He had seen these people fight in the Battle of Hogwarts as if there was to be no tomorrow, and if the simple avoidance of a name helped them to keep their fear at bay, what business was it of his? Every person was allowed a little oddity now and then. He of all people should know; he had been considered one big oddity all his life. He was the one who made weird things happen. He was the one with the scar. He was the one who could talk to snakes. He was the one whose mind was connected with Voldemort's.

But no more. No more would he be the one the whole wizarding community either looked up to or condemned. He would finally start an ordinary life with Ginny, have normal, everyday worries, which was all that he had ever wished for. Of course he would remain famous for a while, people would stop him in the streets, books would be written about him. He was prepared for that. But he also knew as well as anyone that publicity did not last forever. People needed new heroes, new events to gossip about. Sooner or later there would come a time when he would be forgotten, and there was nothing that he looked forward to more.

However, for that to happen there was still one thing that he had to do. He had already taken care of the Elder Wand, returning it to Dumbledore's grave and putting protective enchantments around it to deter any potential thieves, but despite what he had told his old mentor, he was not entirely happy about his decision regarding the Resurrection Stone. True, there was nobody besides himself who knew exactly where he had dropped it in the Forbidden Forest (even he was not quite sure), but there had been countless cases of people finding things by accident, had there not? Who could tell for certain that one day somebody would not find it and perhaps even be foolish enough to use it? The mere thought made him shudder.

And so he went back to look for it. It took him the better part of the morning, but at last he saw it, glittering black in the forest undergrowth, simply begging to be taken. An irresistible temptation for anyone who ever happened to pass this way, that was for sure. If he had had any doubts about the rightness of his decision before, they certainly dissolved now.

Walking slowly back towards the castle, he thought about the best place to hide it. Somewhere nobody would ever think of looking for it. Somewhere nobody would ever come across it accidentally. Somewhere...

And then suddenly he had it. The Room of Requirement. Voldemort had hidden one of his Horcruxes there, so why should he not do the same with the stone? If he phrased his words carefully, if no one saw him at it... Yes, it was the perfect place.

Entering the castle and starting to make his way up to the seventh floor he wondered whether perhaps there was not something he could do with the stone first before he hid it for good. He had fixed his old wand with the Elder Wand, after all, so maybe here it would be enough to just find somebody whose beloved had died so suddenly that they had not had the chance to say goodbye properly. So many people had perished in the battle, but Harry somehow felt that although nobody had ever spoken about it, every single fighter had, in their heart of hearts, known that they might not live to see the next day, and had therefore not joined the fighting without telling their near ones things they would otherwise never have dared to utter. Bringing them back to life would only mean rubbing salt into the wound, then.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that of all the people he knew he himself had been the only one who had actually needed the stone. Luna's mother had died, but the girl seemed to have accepted it as a fact and gone on. Neville had lost his grandfather, his parents had been tortured into madness, but even he appeared to be taking it rather stoically now. On the other hand, he, Harry, would never have found peace had he not had the chance to talk to his parents, Remus and Sirius for one last time. It caused him to feel distinctly uncomfortable. Once again he was made to feel different, even in a thing such as this.

Dejectedly pondering over it, he finally reached the seventh floor. The two gargoyles guarding the entrance into Headmistress McGonagall's office were sneering down on him, as if hoping to make him feel even worse than he already felt. He quickly made to turn away from them and start heading for the Room of Requirement which was still two corridors away when it suddenly dawned on him. It was so obvious he did not understand why he had not thought of it before.

"Dumbledore!" he shouted to the gargoyles, who both scowled at him before springing aside to reveal the spiral staircase behind them. He stepped onto it, letting himself be carried up until he was finally standing in front of McGonagall's door. He knocked and entered.

McGonagall was sitting behind Dumbledore's old desk, poring over what looked like a huge map of Hogwarts, but she rose upon his entrance and came towards him, her features lighting up with a smile.

"Potter!" she exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I was hoping to speak to Professor Snape," said Harry, nodding his head at one of the portraits behind the Headmistress's desk. "In ... in a private matter. Of course I'm not asking you to leave your office now, I can come back at dinnertime or whenever it's convenient for you, just tell me when-"

But McGonagall merely shook her head. "Nonsense. As it happens, I was just on my way to the Entrance Hall to supervise the reconstruction work going on down there, so you can stay here for as long as you need to. Although I fear you may just be wasting your time; I have not seen Professor Snape awake ever since his death. Then again, maybe it could just be that he has nothing to say to me. In any case, I wish you luck with him." She gave him an encouraging smile and left the office.

Harry waited for the door to close behind her before slowly approaching the portrait of the sleeping former Headmaster. He was not surprised by what McGonagall had said; he had already been to her office several times and never once had he found Snape to be awake. Which was a shame, as he had been hoping to speak to him ever since he had seen those unexpected memories in the Pensieve. True, he was a bit uncertain about what exactly he was going to say. After all, what do you say to a person whom you had wholeheartedly hated for the last seven years or so? But that was a thing of the past now. For how can you possibly hate somebody who had continuously put their life at risk to protect you? How can you hate a man who had loved your mother with a love that Harry would never have thought was even possible? No, all Harry felt towards Snape now was a mixture of admiration, gratefulness and pity. And – he glanced at the stone in his hand – also a curious feeling of shared experience, something only the two of them could understand. He had already caught a glimpse of it when he had looked into Snape's memories for the first time in his fifth year. Snape knew what it was like to be bullied, knew what it felt like to be so unhappy at home that one would rather spend the summer holidays at Hogwarts than go back. Then, in his sixth year, he got hold of Snape's old Potions book, and once again he felt a strange connection with the boy whose improvements had helped him win Professor Slughorn's respect, and later even save Ron's life. He remembered that for a short time, before learning his true identity, he had even suspected the Prince to be his own father. And finally, here he was now, toying with the Resurrection Stone, certain that Snape was the person he had been looking for, the person who, like him, had never been able to get over another's death. Well, with the help of the stone he would help him to finally put his mind at rest. It was the least he could do after all that Snape had risked to keep him safe. If he could get him to wake up, that is.

He took a few more tentative steps towards the seemingly sleeping portrait, for he rather suspected Snape of faking his slumber in order not to have to talk to anybody. After half the school had learned about his astonishing secret, he could not say he really blamed him. Still, he would have to convince him that while it was fine to continue feigning sleep in front of everybody else, he most definitely should talk to _him_. And so he squeezed the stone in his hand and, fixing his gaze on the portrait, said, "Look, Professor, I know you're not really sleeping. I completely understand that you don't want to talk to anybody right now, really I do, and if you continue pretending to sleep while I speak that's fine too; all I'm asking of you is to listen to what I have to say.

I suppose first of all I'd like to thank you for protecting me for all those years. I know you really did it for my mother and not for me, but it still counts. I must've been completely blind not to have seen how many times you've saved my life; instead there I was, always thinking the worst of you. So I'm sorry to have been such a prat. I'm also sorry to have shouted at you because of my father. He was a good person, really, but I admit that he treated you horribly when he had absolutely no reason to, and I can see why you would've hated him so much, especially after he got to marry the girl you loved. I know the feeling, believe me. Before Ginny and I got together she was dating Dean Thomas, and just seeing him holding her hand made me want to go and strangle him. So I-"

But there he was cut off in mid-sentence, for at that moment Snape opened his eyes and, gazing down his hooked nose at him with an expression of ill-concealed disdain, said, "If you have come for idle chit chat, Potter, then I regret to inform you that you have picked the wrong portrait. Dumbledore here is the expert on heartache matters, not me." And he looked pointedly towards the portrait on his right where Dumbledore was dozing peacefully in his chair, though Harry could have sworn he had heard him give a slight chuckle at Snape's recommendation.

Harry sighed; he could not say he had not expected such a response. But he still had an ace up his sleeve, or, to be exact, a Resurrection Stone in his hand. If that did not break the ice, then nothing would.

"OK, I'll cut it short, then," he said brightly. "I kind of expected you not to take my words seriously, so I've brought something that will hopefully serve as a better token of my gratitude than anything I could ever say.

You know I was in possession of the Resurrection Stone, don't you. I expect you were listening when I told Professor Dumbledore that I would leave it in the Forbidden Forest where I had dropped it. But since then I've changed my mind. I've decided to hide it elsewhere, somewhere nobody will ever be able to find it by accident. But not just yet. I was wondering if maybe I couldn't use it, for one last time. I tried to think of a person whose mind would not rest until they had the chance to talk to somebody who was dead, just like I would never have been able to go on with my life if I hadn't been given the chance to talk to my parents. And so finally I thought of you."

He looked straight at Snape then, and was satisfied to see that he had got his full attention now. And was it only his imagination, or was Snape really looking a little nervous, as if he suspected what he was going to say next? Sensing his advantage, he quickly went on before Snape could interrupt him.

"I know you've never really got over the death of my mother. I suspect there were things you wanted to tell her one day, but then she died so suddenly and you never got round to it. That's why I want to offer you something. I have the Resurrection Stone here now, in my hand. I can make my mother appear for you; you can talk to her for as long as you want. I'll leave you alone with her and only come back when you're done. But it's nothing but an idea, of course; you don't have to do it if you don't want to. I just thought it could make you happy."

He finished and looked up at Snape with expectation. The older man, however, was not looking back. He was gazing at an unspecified point on the floor and his expression was tense, as if he was barely containing his emotions. Harry could sense he was fighting an inner battle, so he thought it best to just stay quiet and wait.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour at least, the black eyes turned to him and a strangled voice said, "Do it."

Harry allowed himself an inward smile; he had not expected any other answer. On the outside, however, he merely gave a solemn nod, before turning the stone over in his hand three times, all the while thinking of his mother and how he wanted her to be visible for Snape, too.

And suddenly there she was, smiling brightly at him and looking just as beautiful as she had when he last saw her in the Forbidden Forest. He chanced a sideways glance at Snape, whose eyes had widened and he was staring at the apparition as if she were an angel come down to Earth. Not wanting to embarrass him, he quickly turned his attention back to her, too, and said, "You know why I have called you, and I thank you for coming. I'll be waiting outside. Come for me when you're done here." And with that he walked out of the office, leaving the door open a crack so that when the time came he would not have trouble getting back inside again.


	2. Severus and Lily

Meanwhile Snape continued to gaze transfixed at Lily as at least a hundred emotions crossed his face. Pain. Guilt. Regret. Suffering. Awe. Joy. Love. Before he knew it his eyes were full of tears and his throat constricted so painfully that it took him more than one try to form the words he had been wishing to say for so long, but because Lily was dead a wish was all they ever remained.

"Forgive me..."

Lily's eyes were full of warmth as she shook her head and smiled. "I have forgiven you long ago, Severus."

Snape let out a quiet sob. "You are ... you always have been ... too kind," he said, his voice thick with tears. "I do not deserve it... You ... you must know that it was I who had brought the Dark Lord to your doorstep. It was as if ... as if I had killed you myself."

"No, Severus. You merely made a mistake," said Lily simply.

But Snape no longer heard her, for he had already gone back in time in his mind, back to those fateful events that had led to Lily's death.

"If I had known ... if I had had the slightest idea that the prophecy would lead him to you, I would never ... never have gone to tell him," he ploughed on, suddenly feeling a pressing need to vindicate himself. "You must believe me that. I regretted it for the rest of my life ... every single moment ... it was always there, always haunting me. When I eventually learned that the prophecy referred to you, I asked Dumbledore to protect you, but it was all in vain. I could not ... could not save you." He almost choked on the last words as he was once again overcome by tears.

Lily gazed at him with compassion, and only spoke after he had collected himself enough to take in what she had to say. "Your biggest mistake was joining Voldemort, Severus," she said levelly. "No good was ever going to come of that. But now the time has come to forgive yourself. You have suffered enough."

But Snape only shook his head. "I will _never_ be able to forgive myself," he declared with feeling.

Lily gave him a scrutinizing look, as if trying to understand what exactly was going on in his mind. "Why?" she asked finally. "Don't you think you're being unnecessarily harsh on yourself? You have atoned for your mistake many times over. No man has been brave enough to put their life on the line as you have. No man has saved as many people from certain death as you have. Even as you lay dying you had enough wits about you to aid my son by giving him your memories. Had it not been for this, he would most probably have died ... as he would have on countless other occasions had you not been there to protect him. What more could you have done? Yes, you could not save me, but you did save Harry, and through him the whole wizarding world. Isn't that a big enough achievement for one man alone?"

Unable to find any further arguments against this, Snape opted for a change of topic, masochistically seeking another area where he could continue belittling himself. "It is true that I gave Potter protection," he said slowly. "But I also gave him six years of hell while he was at school. I humiliated him whenever I could. I insulted him. Even as he came here to thank me I could not help it. And all because he is the son of his father. Whenever I look at him I see James. And yet – he is not like him. It appears he has a kind side to him, inherited from you. I was so blinded by my prejudice that I had never noticed it before."

"It is not too late to make amends," said Lily with conviction. "I know your pride will suffer, but if you acknowledge your mistake, I'm certain Harry will understand."

"I would say my pride hardly matters, given the circumstances," said Snape with a wry smile. "After all, I am but a portrait."

"And a very good one, at that," added Lily, grinning.

Snape's smile became more pronounced, yet it was the sad smile of someone for whom kind words came a moment too late. Silence ruled the room for quite some time as he stared unseeingly at the hem of Lily's robes, gathering the courage to ask the one question that had been plaguing his mind for as long as he could remember. Finally he raised his eyes and, in a voice that was as shaky as a schoolboy's, asked, "Lily... If you had not married James Potter, would there ever ... ever have been any hope for us?"

"I was expecting you to ask that," sighed Lily. "We chose different paths, Severus. You insisted on going over to Voldemort, but I preferred to stay on the side of the Light, and so did James. That's why I married him, and eventually came love him."

"So," Snape's deep voice was cracking with emotion as he tried to discern the meaning behind her words, "had I not joined the Dark Lord, you would have ... chosen _me_, over _him_?"

Lily nodded, and even her expression was grave now. "I was only waiting for you to say the word."

Disbelief was etched on Snape's face as he stared at her, her words still ringing in his head. "And I ... never knew," was all he managed to say, before all the implications of her simple statement finally sank in, making him bury his head in his hands. Only after some time had passed did he raise it again to look at Lily through tear-rimmed eyes. "All those years I believed you only saw me as a ... friend, nothing more," he proclaimed dejectedly. "I was ... such a fool."

"Well, it hardly matters now," said Lily comfortingly. "Stop dwelling on the past, Severus. It isn't helping anyone, least of all yourself. You cannot undo what has once been done."

"I wish I could. My entire life had been a waste."

"Now, now, please don't start on that again," said Lily firmly. "I have already told you that you have achieved more in one lifetime than most people do in a hundred. But all right, if you still think you haven't done enough, you can do something for me."

"Of course. Anything you ask." The mere prospect made Snape's spirits lift as if by magic.

"I wouldn't agree in such a hurry if I were you," laughed Lily. "You see, what I'd like you to do is try and befriend my son."

Snape's eager expression froze. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. I'd like you and Harry to become friends. I have a feeling it might do you both good."

"I seriously doubt that," opposed Snape. "The boy despises me. He may have come to thank me and all the rest of it, but I do not believe for a moment that-"

"Oh, come now, Severus," Lily cut in impatiently. "Do you seriously believe he would've used the Resurrection Stone to call me for you if he despised you? No, he came to thank you because he wanted to and you know it."

"Perhaps," admitted Snape grudgingly, but quickly went on in case Lily should get the impression that she had convinced him. "Still, how am I to befriend a boy his age? I never had any friends at school besides you. I am old enough to be his father. We have nothing in common."

"I suspect you will find you have more in common than you think," said Lily knowingly. "For a start, you can talk to him about me, the way you knew me at school. I'm sure he'll like that. And as for you being old enough to be his father, all the better. He has enough friends his age, but he has never had a fatherly figure to look up to. Only Sirius, whose death he has never fully recovered from. Please help him fill that empty spot in his heart, Severus."

Gazing into those beautiful green eyes of hers, Snape knew he was fighting a losing battle. After all, had he not complained only a moment ago about his wasted life? Had he not promised to do anything Lily asked? He was not one to go back on his word. And if it made Lily happy... He sighed. It looked like there would be no peace for him, not even after death.

"All right," he said exasperatedly. "I shall see what can be done in the matter."

Lily endowed him with a dazzling smile. "Thank you, Severus. I knew I could count on you."

"You knew I would never refuse you, you mean," muttered Snape mutinously.

Lily giggled. "Well, that too, I guess. But please, Severus, if it is at all possible, don't do it for me. Do it for Harry. Try to understand him, don't be afraid to grow fond of him. I think that once you come to accept the idea you will see it won't be nearly as hard as you expect it to be."

Snape, however, merely glared at her. "I am a wizard, not a magician," he snapped.

Lily let out a short, ringing laugh. "I see your sense of humour hasn't left you, even after all these years. Well, suit yourself. We'll see how it turns out in the end."

Snape said nothing, and so the room remained silent for quite some time, until Lily finally suggested that she take her leave. "Harry will already be wondering what became of us," she explained. "So unless there is anything else you'd like to say to me..."

Her words had an immediate effect on Snape: his slightly defiant expression disappeared in an instant, only to be replaced by one more suited to a funeral.

"I wish you could stay here with me, forever," he said quietly.

Lily gave him a sad smile. "I wish that, too. But you know I can't." She sighed, then crossed the distance between them until she was standing directly in front of his portrait, and before Snape realized what was happening she had placed a soft kiss on the canvas where his lips were. "Goodbye, Severus," she whispered. "Take good care of Harry for me." And then she was gone, leaving Snape to grieve her departure to his heart's content, and also to wonder if he was only imagining things or if his lips really felt cold where she had touched them.

A/N: OK, I know I said the story would have two chapters, but since then I've decided it would look better in three, and it's not because I'm hoping to get more reviews that way :) Hope you liked this chapter and don't forget to review! A big thank you to the two people who have reviewed the last chapter, and even to those who have added the story to their Favourite Story list, which also tells me that you enjoyed reading it.


	3. Severus and Harry

He was still weeping disconsolately by the time Harry came back into the room, not even bothering to hide it. Somehow everything seemed meaningless at that moment; the only thing his brain could register was that Lily was gone.

Harry, on the other hand, simply registered how uncomfortable the whole situation made him feel, and wondered how to get out of it as quickly as possible without appearing inconsiderate. Finally, after a moment or two of shuffling his feet indecisively, he gathered his courage and muttered something along the lines of not wanting to butt in on Snape and suggesting of leaving him alone and coming back another time. "And ... I hope you sorted it out with my mother," he added as an afterthought, before turning on his heel and making a swift retreat towards the door, as if another second spent in the room would suffocate him.

"_Wait_."

Harry froze with his hand on the door as Snape's silky voice cut through the air, sounding as imperious as ever. Somewhat gingerly, he turned around to look at its owner and saw Snape gazing at him in a curious manner, as if he did not quite know how to continue and expected Harry to help him. The fact that his eyes were still red from crying did nothing to detract from the surrealness of the situation, either.

"I wish ... to thank you," he said finally, sounding as though the words were choking him. "You need not have done this for me. If you were anything like your father, as I have always claimed you to be, you would never have even thought of it. It was your mother who was ever the kind one. In this respect – and several others, too – you take after her."

Harry could not believe his ears. What had his mother done to Snape to make him say such things to him all of a sudden? He supposed that continuing the conversation would mean pushing his luck beyond the boundaries of sanity, but he simply could not let this perfect opportunity slip by, and so before he had had the chance to think about it too much he asked, "What was she like, Professor? You might think it strange that I'm asking you, but it seems that of all the people I've ever met you knew her ... well ... best."

There were a number of reactions he expected Snape to produce, one more humiliating than the next, but the one that eventually came was the most unlikely of all. "Even if I were not dead, Potter," drawled Snape, "I would no longer be your teacher at this point, so I suggest you refrain from the 'Professors' and 'sirs' and use my given name instead."

By then Harry was beyond all doubt that his mother had a hand in this, for despite keeping his biting demeanour Snape was behaving most oddly indeed. And although he was evidently behaving oddly in his favour, Harry had to admit it made him feel a little ill-at-ease. The old Snape had been unpleasant, yes, but at least one knew what to expect of him. But how on earth was one to treat a Snape who was trying to be friendly? He supposed the best thing would be to just let him set the tone of the conversation and see where that led them. And since the tone had been set the way it had...

"In that case I suggest you stop calling me 'Potter'," he shot back. "I have a first name too, you know."

In the olden days he would have got at least a detention for such cheek, but now Snape actually looked as though he was trying hard not to smile. "So you do," he agreed. "But you were, I believe, interested in hearing about your mother."

Harry nodded eagerly, his heart speeding up in expectation of what Snape was going to say. Meanwhile the older man sighed, and when he finally spoke his voice sounded as if from far away, as if he was once again a schoolboy and Lily was right there at his side, his best friend.

"What I first noticed about Lily when I saw her was that she had a curious presence about her that made everybody flock around her like pigeons. After coming to school she gained instant popularity, not only among students but teachers as well. I do not believe you could have found many who disliked her. She only tried to see the good in people, to make excuses for them no matter what they did. She always had a kind word for those who needed it, she was quick to offer help. She was forgiving. She had an inimitable sense of humour. But above all, she was an exceptionally talented and clever witch. You would not have wanted to have her as your enemy. Even before she obtained her wand she was able to perform magic many third years would have been proud of."

"Still, it wasn't enough to fight off Voldemort," remarked Harry gravely. Now that Snape had painted a portrait of his mother in such vivid colours, he regretted not to have had the chance to really know her himself more than ever.

"No," agreed Snape quietly, his dark eyes suddenly full of pain. "No magic was good enough against the Dark Lord."

Silence followed this statement, as both men got lost in their gloomy thoughts for a while. Finally Harry asked, "Sir ... I mean, Severus," (the name felt decidedly strange on his tongue) "if you loved her so much, why did you never ask her out? Being as popular as she was, it was obvious someone else would take her sooner or later when you didn't."

It was a bold question, he was well aware of that, and he almost certainly expected Snape to tell him it was none of his business, which, of course, he would be perfectly entitled to, but Harry simply could not help himself. For the first time in his life he was given an unexpected chance to talk to Snape as if they were equals, and now that he had got over his initial shock he had to say he was rather enjoying the experience. After all, had he not, not even half an hour earlier, been reflecting on the similarities he believed they shared? And now here he was, asking Snape about exactly this – something he had been through himself, something he could identify with. Though not quite. There was something that just did not add up, and, being the curious boy that he was, he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Glancing at Snape in apprehension, he saw him press his lips tightly together, but the angry retort he thought would follow never came. Instead, after considering the question for a moment, Snape merely said, "And why, may I ask, would you want to know such a thing?"

"Well," said Harry slowly, doing his best to formulate his thoughts into words, "it just seems curious to me that you let her go without a fight. I can't think of a reason why you would. Me ... it took me almost two years to pluck up the courage to let Cho Chang know that I liked her. I just thought I'd make a complete fool of myself if I did. And then Ginny – I would've asked her out much sooner if I wasn't afraid of Ron's reaction. But you ... I just can't see you being afraid. How else would you have managed to risk your life for so long and not break down? How would you have lied to Voldemort? He would've sensed it if you were afraid. I know he was good at that sort of thing. So, the whole business with my mother, I just don't understand it. I don't understand why you never told her."

Snape did not answer immediately. For some time he just stared at Harry in a puzzled manner, almost as if he were seeing him for the first time. It made Harry feel as though he was being analyzed, and whatever Snape said next would let him know whether he had passed his test or not.

And then, at last, the verdict came. "Perhaps you overestimate me," stated Snape with a hint of a smile. "I have noticed you have a strong tendency towards idealization, especially of older men. First your father, then Black, and now..."

He deliberately left the sentence unfinished, as if he thought the idea too absurd to put into words. Harry allowed himself an inner smile. Though Snape would probably deny it, it looked like he had unwittingly found another thing they had in common. If he had an inclination to idealize men, then he wondered what one should call Snape's obsession with his mother.

"However, regarding your question," continued Snape, "I fear you have missed an important difference. After your mother had gone I no longer had anything to lose. There were times when I would have welcomed death as almost a liberation. Understandably, then, I had nothing to fear." He paused, as if to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to say next, then went on. "With your mother, however, it was a different matter entirely. I believed that if I told her how I ... felt about her, our friendship would be over. I could not risk that, and so I remained silent. How ironic that in the end I lost her friendship anyway..."

Harry could hardly believe his ears. Not only was he shocked by Snape's openness, which he did not quite see how he had deserved, but to discover that Snape, too, had been afraid... Interestingly enough, however, it did nothing to lessen Harry's respect of him at all. Quite on the contrary, it only confirmed what Harry had already begun to see but what he still had not been to able to process fully – that Snape was not nearly as cold and unfeeling as he had tried to make everyone believe he was, that he was, in fact, a human being like any other, with all the emotions that went with it. And not only that – now more than ever did Harry feel the connection that he believed they shared, a kind of understanding of what Snape had been through, an understanding that could well enough be mutual if Snape only tried.

He chose his words carefully as he formulated his reply, and eventually said, "Thank you for the honest answer, Severus. I appreciate it, I really do. It kind of makes me sorry you never let me see this side of you while I was still at school. I think we would've got on much better if you had."

"Considering I took you to be like your father, it is only understandable that I did not care to give you an opportunity to reveal my weaknesses," said Snape bitterly. "Not to mention that you were my student – somebody I would hardly seek out to confide in."

"I suppose," conceded Harry. "Not that it really matters, anyway. You confided in me now, and I'm glad you did. I understand the difference you mentioned, and I think I have a similar experience. It may be paradoxical, but when I went to the forest to die, I wasn't nearly as afraid as when I had to invite Cho to the Yule Ball. So I can see how facing Voldemort would have been a piece of cake for you compared to asking my mother out."

"A rather simple way of putting it, but you are, in essence, right," said Snape, a small smile playing in the corner of his lips.

Harry smiled too. Snape would be Snape; friendly or not, there would always be a slightly biting undertone in his voice, but now that he was obviously using it out of habit rather than to hurt him, Harry no longer minded it. In fact, he found it rather refreshing. It was so very different from Ron's slightly primitive manner of speaking, or even from the know-it-all attitude Hermione so often took when she got carried away. Before he knew what he was saying he blurted out, "Severus, do you ... do you think I could come and visit you from time to time? Just for a bit of a chat?"

A shadow of disbelief crossed Snape's face, but he managed to regain his composure almost instantly. "To keep me up to date with your girlfriend troubles?" he smirked. "Are Mr Weasley and Miss Granger no longer sufficient?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Obviously Snape would rather eat a Flobberworm than make it easy for him. "If you are interested, then even that," he retorted. "Though now that I have Ginny, I don't really expect any."

"In that case why waste your time here? Surely there is nothing I can give you that Miss Weasley cannot? Or your other friends, for that matter?"

Harry frowned. What did Snape want to hear from him? Could this possibly be another test? Did Snape perhaps see Harry's request as a mere whim, and was therefore making Harry think it through more carefully, so that he would not come to regret it? Well, he guessed that whatever the case, honesty would be the best course to take.

"Surprisingly, I think there is," he said solemnly. "I've been through some things that my friends will most likely never understand. They just don't have a clue. You do. You've been down the same road. You'd understand. I think ... I really believe we could become ... well, friends, I suppose. After all, you were my mother's best friend, and you admitted that I was a lot like her. So I thought..."

His voice trailed off under the weight of the look that Snape was giving him. The intensity of it was almost unbearable. But then it was gone, and Snape said, "Once again your logic does not fail to astound me, Harry."

Harry gazed at him, puzzled. The content of the words was as sarcastic as always, and yet the tone in which they were uttered sounded genuine, as if to suggest they were to be taken literally. Not to mention that Snape had used Harry's given name, for the first time ever. So that could only mean-

"I take that as a 'yes', then," he ventured, hoping he had deciphered the underlying meaning correctly.

Snape's smile, the first real smile he had ever seen on his face, a smile that suddenly made him look twenty years younger, told him that he had.

THE END

A/N: Sorry to have taken so long! I took up a course that left me with no time for anything else, so eventually I got fed up with it and quit, and immediately went back to my story :) Hope you liked the ending..I'd love it if you let me know! If you leave a signed review, I will definitely answer you. And thank you for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter..here are the replies to those I haven't answered:

The Stereotypical One: Thank you, I'm glad you are enjoying it, and I hope you like the ending, too!

Justagirl019: I don't think Rowling would agree with it, but I do believe it might have been that way. If Snape hadn't joined the Death Eater crowd, he and Lily wouldn't have drifted apart, and who knows what would've happened then. Oh well. At least now they have sorted it out in my story :)


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